


Stubborn Girl

by LegolasLovely



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Blood and Injury, Comfort, Dwarf/Human Relationship(s), Fanfiction, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Major Character Injury, Orc Attack, Orcs, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 12:15:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20639006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegolasLovely/pseuds/LegolasLovely
Summary: (Y/N) is skilled human fighter who Gandalf brought on the company’s journey to Erebor, despite Thorin’s many arguments. When orcs surround the company, (Y/N) fights bravely, but is injured. Thorin comforts her while she’s in pain.





	Stubborn Girl

**Author's Note:**

> {Warnings: mentions of injury, blood, pain, stitches, orc death, top nakey reader but no smut, FLUFF}

The loud clanging of swords and the metallic smell of blood were heavy in the air as the orcs surrounded the company. Thorin was yelling orders to the others and you saw more of the enemy running up the hill to ambush you.

“There are too many,” you muttered, loud enough for Thorin to hear.

“You’re here to protect the company. You’ll do as you’re told,” he yelled over his shoulder as he threw his sword into the towering white body in front of him.

With a loud grunt, you took down your own orc. The ground shook beneath your feet when it fell. They really were huge, ugly things, you thought.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Fili and Kili easily fighting their own small pack of enemies and you swore you saw Bilbo disappear into mid-air. At least the hobbit’s safe, you thought.

When you had a free moment, you turned to the bottom of the hill and saw it empty. There were no more orcs to come and fight. A roar from behind you yanked you from your thoughts, but you weren’t quick enough to avoid a painful slash to your back. You gasped and turned to see three gigantic orcs holding their swords out to you. With grace and skill, you dodged them and lunged until they grew tired and you were able to take them down one by one.

When you heard cheers from your company, you turned around to them and stepped over the huge bodies drenched in black blood. Somehow, you had won this round.

“(Y/N)! Taking on three at once! Impressive!” Kili said, running over to you.

“I didn’t really have a choice,” you chuckled. You heard ringing in your ears and felt hot liquid running down your back. You leaned over to Kili and muttered, “Can you get Oin?”

You shut your eyes tight and stumbled. Distantly, you heard Kili yelling, “She’s injured! She needs help.”

A strong arm slid around your waist, holding you up and leading you away. You wondered who it could be. Kili’s arms are slimmer, Fili isn’t this tall, it must be Dwalin.

“Bring her over here,” you heard Oin say. He voice sounded distant and you had no desire to be dragged that far.

“Why don’t you come over here,” you groaned.

“You’ll do as you’re told.”

Your eyes snapped open to see it was Thorin who was holding you up. You resisted the urge to make a snarky comment and let him carry you through the trees where the foliage was thickest.

You sat down on a fallen log next to Oin and turned your back to him. “It’s my shoulder.”

“I see that,” Oin said, lifting your tunic away from your skin. The dried blood already made the fabric stick to you and you winced as he peeled it away. He lifted your shirt and you shivered when the cold air attacked your wound. “You’ll have to take this off, lass.”

You pulled the thin tunic off your head and you were left bare to the forest. Though it was drenched with blood, you bundled the shirt in your hands and covered your chest with it. The thick smell wafted into your nose and your stomach lurched.

“Here,” Thorin said, handing you his cloak. “Use this.”

You threw your useless tunic on the ground and held the fur cloak in your hands. Your chin fell into the fur and you breathed in deeply as Oin started to clean your wound. Thorin’s scent on the cloak comforted you, it smelled like pipe smoke and fire, and something unique to him that you recognized.

“Lass, this will hurt,” Oin said.

You drew in a shaky breath and nodded. You felt cold liquid race down your back and sting harshly when it met the gash in your skin. You watched your knuckles turn white around the cloak until you finally had to close your eyes.

“Breathe, (Y/N).” Thorin’s deep voice echoed in your ears. He grabbed your hand and brought it toward him but you yanked it away and sucked in a breath. You heard the bitterness in his voice. “You don’t have to be so brave all the time, you know.”

Your eyes flew open as Oin gave you a rest from the pain. “Neither do you.”

His intense gaze didn’t waver. “I am a King.”

“So?”

You adjusted the cloak covering you and winced at the pain the movement brought.

“One more time, lass,” Oin warned.

Thorin stuck out an open hand to you with a raised brow. You set your jaw and grabbed it with a slap, gripping it tightly. The liquid was a burning river of fire on your wound. Your pain somehow seemed to double and you cried out through your clenched teeth. You felt hot, rogue tears streaming down your face and you saw stars in the black of your eyelids from shutting them so fiercely.

Thorin’s thumb brushed away your tears. “I’m here with you, you’ll be alright.” His tone was matter of fact and strong. He had abandoned his seat across from you and was now kneeling in front of you. “The hard part’s over,” he said as your pain started to subside.

You turned around to see Oin threading a blunt needle with thick string. You closed your eyes and pushed more tears down your cheeks, dreading what was to come. “Damn orcs.”

Thorin hummed as he stared up at you, wishing he could take your pain. He set his cloak further up on your shoulders when it had fallen down while you were distracted. You stared at your knees in embarrassment until you felt a pinching and pulling of Oin’s stitching.

“Tell me about Erebor,” you ground out.

Thorin’s eyebrows shot up in question.

“I’m sitting here with my back ripped open by orcs and I don’t even know what I’m fighting for,” you said.

You listened to his voice more than his words as you tried to ignore the pain in your back and your queasy stomach. The thought of stitches in your skin made you want to bolt, but Thorin’s calm voice kept you still.

You spun his thick rings around his fingers and traced the lines in his palms as you listened to the rise and fall of his breath and the lilt of his voice. His eyes were bright from amusement as he studied your features and told you the stories.

“Done, lass. Just need to bandage it.”

Thorin rose, but you didn’t release his hand. “You don’t need to go.”

He nodded and stood aside to let Oin do his work. Once your bare chest and injured shoulder were wrapped in the rough bandages, Thorin quickly closed his cloak around you again. You thanked Oin softly and he bowed to you.

Thorin sat next to you and said to Oin, “Tell one of my nephews to find her a tunic.” You barely felt his arm wrap around your lower back. “You were right,” he said once Oin had left.

“I’m right about so many things,” you joked. “To which are you referring?”

He rolled his eyes. His glare quickly turned soft. “There were too many of them.”

“Nah, we fought ‘em all off,” you said.

“Not without consequence.”

You shook your head. “If I wasn’t so busy questioning your orders I would have seen those three orcs gaining on me. But when I saw all of them on the hill, I got scared.”

“So did I.”

You turned to his proud face and saw he wasn’t lying. “I’ve never questioned you before and I’m not going to start, Thorin. I trust you with my life.”

The very corners of his mouth turned into a thin smile. You took the chance and leaned your head on his shoulder. You felt him tense, but it melted away and he wrapped his arm firmly around you. “You’ll have to take it easy the next few days,” he said, his voice low.

“Never,” you said and felt him chuckle.

“Stubborn girl,” he mumbled. He carefully pulled you into his lap and tucked his cloak tighter around you. You turned your face into his neck and inhaled his familiar scent and sighed as his arms enveloped you.

Thorin stared into the night sky until he felt your breathing slow, amazed that you could fall asleep in his arms. You really did trust him.


End file.
